On the first morning of E3, while I was waiting in line to be let into West Hall, the senior editor of PlanetGameCube.com fired me.
"You were supposed to come to the hotel and update with us yesterday."
"I had to go to the Nokia press conference," I half-lied.
"You were supposed to come to the hotel last night for the staff meeting."
"I had another staff meeting." Really, I do write for another website. And one whose senior editor doesn't contact me at one in the morning to tell me to tone down the bold type.
He looked down. I spied the top of his crew-cut head. He was dressed in a PlanetGameCube.com T-shirt and khaki pants. To his shoes, he mumbled, "Itwasniceworkingwithyou." The two large gentlemen he'd brought with him stared over my right and left shoulders. Maybe they were looking at my friends -- insert credit's own Doug Jones and Eric-Jon Waugh. With a heel-turn that didn't even almost suggest a movie-villain's flicking of a cape, the three were gone. Like villains in a children's movie, my companions and I were laughing out our noses in half a second.
Five minutes later, the three of us stepped up to the Ziff-Davis booth to accept shopping bags full of glossy, thick American videogames magazines. I lugged them around all day. At the end of day one of E3 2003, the ZD booth still had plenty of magazines. I felt kind of stupid for not waiting until the end of the day to pick up the magazines.
And I feel kind of smart now, with that shopping bag of magazines on my coffee table. It's two weeks after E3, and my website (yes, this one right here) has just been dubbed "Website of the month" by Edge magazine. I wrote half a novel in the last two days. At present, I've got a glass of cranberry juice -- the doctor's recommendation -- and a bowl of M&Ms, and I'm seconds away from launching into writing the best piece of gaming-related journalism ever written: by tim rogers.
It's going to be a long one. Be aware that I have the power of a log analyzer, so I'll know if you're not reading it all. Don't skip to the end, because that'll hurt my feelings. I have a lot to say, and a good 90% of it is important. We're going to be here a while. Don't make me come after you. If I have to do so to get my message across, I will bust into your house and sit across from you at your dining room table while you eat your Frosted Flakes. I'll have this fat stack of magazines in my arms, and I'll probably make you make me a cup of tea. Once I get settled in, I might not leave for a few hours, and who knows? You might have shit to do or something. So, just to be safe, read the article, okay?
[Next: CNN for kids and EGM at nine]